The Protector: The Breakdown
by LetsTalkLife
Summary: Lorraine hadn't been too excited for the Nemeton to reawaken, but this? This was so much worse than she could've imagined. Beacon Hills has become a beacon again, and it's drawing in creatures from the darkest pages of the bestiary. Rated T for language, Stiles/OC. Third in the Protector series {DISCONTINUED}
1. Chapter x

**A/N: Hello and welcome the third story in the Protector series: the Breakdown! Cheery title, I know.**

 **If you have read the previous two stories (Beginning and Buildup), you can scroll right past this. If not, I'd recommend reading them first and coming back later. Some quick information:**

 **Apart from in the first few chapters in the first story, I steer clear from character descriptions of my OC, Lorraine. But if you want a visual, I imagine her to look somewhat like Olivia Holt, with some small changes.**

 **I try my best to upload every weekend, but sometimes fail (sorry). I also aim for my chapters to have 2k words.**

 **I only do author's note's at the start of the first chapter in a series, all the other chapters will have them at the end.**

 **After uploading this I will take a break for a month, so I can write some chapters in advance.**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter X: Graves

I looked up from the bouquet of flowers I was holding to Stiles. "Are you sure you want me to be there?"

He nodded. "Trust me, it'll make it a whole lot easier." He held open the door for me so I could walk into the sheriff's office. "You know, last time we brought one of these to her grave, they got stolen the same day? Fifty bucks, down the drain."

I put down the flowers on the desk and peeked over it, seeing the sheriff on the floor with a lot of files. I mean piles and piles of them. "Sheriff… what are you doing?"

"Well," he looked up. "If someone wants flowers that bad, they can have 'em. It's the gesture. And as for the files…" he sighed. "I've been going through some old cases of mine with a, let's say, more illuminated perspective."

Stiles picked up one of the files and opened it. "Reports of bipedal lizard man sprinting across freeway," he read, giving his father a questioning look.

"Kanima pile." the sheriff said, slapping his hand on a few files. Stiles shrugged and threw it on top as the sheriff turned to me. "By the way, Lora, Stiles said you had this… book, full of supernatural creatures."

I scoffed. "Yeah, but that's thicker than all these files put together. Besides, do any of these cases still matter? I'm sure the bipedal lizard man is long gone now." The sheriff nodded and stood up, walking to the corkboard behind his desk.

"That may be true, but there's been one case in particular that's been bothering me. Almost six years ago, when I was elected county sheriff, my first job was to tell a man that not only had his wife and children died, but for as far as we could tell…" he pointed at a picture of a little girl with brown hair. "His daughter Malia had been dragged by coyotes."

Stiles walked over to the board and started taking a look. "You mean dragged and eaten?"

"We didn't find the car until three days after the crash. They'd driven off the road into a pretty deep ravine. The bodies that were still in the car were covered in bites and slashes."

Stiles nodded. "So you're thinking bites and scratches… werewolf attack?"

"Maybe. The night the accident happened was a full moon." The sheriff turned to me. "Could it have been a werewolf attack?"

I bit my lip. "A werewolf would've destroyed all the bodies, ripped them to shreds just for the satisfaction…" I walked over and scanned the files on the board. "Does any of it suggest why they crashed?" The sheriff shook his head. "Maybe this Malia was the one who shifted."

Stiles frowned. "You think?" I gave him a look and he started considering the idea. "It would explain the cuts inside the car… and if Malia did survive the crash, she might've panicked and ran."

I nodded. "Since she was never found, she either died somewhere around the crash or…"

"Or she's still alive…" Stiles finished, and shook his head. "No way, a little girl can't survive on her own in a forest."

I sighed. "Can and can't are hard to define in the world of the supernatural." We spent a few more minutes staring at the articles on the board in silence, until the sheriff clapped his hands together.

"Alright, let's go. You kids have got better things to do than doing what's supposed to be my job."

~o~

The sheriff and I walked towards Stiles, who was already standing at the grave with the flowers. It pained me to see him hurt like that without being able to do anything about it, but he always claimed that I didn't need to do anything.

"Hey, ehm…" the sheriff suddenly said. "Stiles and I need to talk about something, would you mind-"

"Oh, it's fine. I'll wait."

He smiled. "Thank you." I shrugged and gestured him to go ahead. I watched him go and waited until I was sure he and Stiles had started talking. Then, I started wandering around the graveyard. I've had my suspicions, but in between the human sacrifices and Alpha packs I hadn't found the time to really go look.

Finding my parents' grave was much more of a kick to the stomach than I'd expected it to be. Dad had once mentioned that mom had been buried, but never where. He must've been buried here after I… left.

I sat down in front of the patch of ground, staring at the tombstone. Behind me, there was the sound of a twig snapping. I quickly wiped away my tears, but they just kept coming.

"I probably should've told you that," Stiles said as he sat down next to me.

I shrugged. "Doesn't make them any less dead."

"It's okay to feel sad, you know." I nodded, wiping away another tear. "Hey…" He put one arm around me and pulled me closer. "Let them come, Lora. Let 'em come."

I cried, okay? I cried my fucking eyes out and I'm not going to pretend I didn't. Once I did that long enough to feel numb, I could talk again.

"They were planning to stay in Beacon Hills, you know." I said, my head on Stiles' shoulder. "My mom and dad. They didn't want me to move around constantly. But after mom died… he couldn't stay."

Stiles frowned. "Since when do you know this?"

"Jason told me."

"Ah."

"You still don't like him?"

"Nope."

I chuckled and took my head off his shoulder. "Come on, let's go home."


	2. Chapter one

Chapter one: Nightmares

Ever since we defeated Blake, I felt less tired. Maybe because there wasn't someone who should be dead running around and killing people who shouldn't die. When you're whole thing is 'protecting death,' it's kind of embarrassing when that happens.

This meant that I had gone back to being a light sleeper. And let me tell you this: It can be very annoying if your boyfriend is constantly writhing around. We usually slept next to each other, spooning isn't really great when one of the people has nightmares. Only now I wasn't the one having a nightmare, Stiles was.

When I got an elbow to my stomach, I decided that was it. I prodded him with my finger. "Stiles, cut it out." Nothing. "Stiles." I sighed, climbed over him and got out of the bed. When I walked towards the door, where the lightswitch was, Stiles whimpered.

"No, no. Don't let them get in."

I froze. "Let who get in?"

"Don't let them get in." He sounded like he was about to cry. I took another step and he mumbled something. Quickly, I turned on the lights and walked back to bed, where Stiles was, writhing around and gripping the sheets tight.

"Stiles, you have to wake up." I crouched down next to him. "It's just a dream, okay? So wake up, Stiles." I put my free hand on his shoulder and shook him around. "Wa-"

"Wake up," he mumbled. For a second, I thought he was actually going to. But then he let out a whimper again and grabbed my hand tight.

"Come on, Stiles…" I bit my lip. What the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn't just ignore it, but I couldn't get him to wake up either. Then, an idea came to me. "Hold on, okay?" I stood up and let go of his hand.

"No, Lora…"

I turned around, but he was still asleep. "I'll be back, okay?" I whispered before leaving the room. Across the hallway was the sheriff's room, where I knocked on the door. When there came no answer, I knocked again and opened it.

"Lorraine?" the sheriff grumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry sheriff, but Stiles, h-"

"No!" Stiles' scream dragged on, the sheriff sat bolt upright and without even looking at each other, we ran to Stiles.

He was sitting upright in his bed, screaming, looking at nothing in particular. The sheriff held him back to keep him from falling off the bed as I sat down in front of him.

"Stiles, Stiles, shhh…" I put my hands on his cheeks to get his attention. "It was just a dream, okay? A nightmare."

The scream died in his throat, but Stiles looked as if he was still trapped in his nightmare. His eyes were open wide, but he was looking right through me.

"You okay, kid?" the sheriff asked, letting Stiles go.

Stiles blinked a couple of times and nodded. "Yeah, just a nightmare." The sheriff and I glanced at each other. Quite a nightmare if he literally had to scream himself awake.

"Just go back to sleep, okay?" the sheriff patted Stiles on the shoulder and gave me a nod before leaving the room.

We sat in silence for a while, until Stiles spoke up. "Lora, I'm going to need your help with something."

"With what?"

"How can you tell if you're dreaming?"

So that was why he still looked so anxious. "Dream within a dream?" He just nodded. "Well, usually you can't read in dreams. Though not always, I've been able to a few times, my brain just kind of tells me what should be there." I shook my head. "Anyway, mirrors show a distorted image… You can also count your fingers. In dreams, you have more." He nodded again, but didn't look me in the eye. "Stiles, this isn't a dream."

Now he did look up. "Lora, I've had this conversation with you three times."

I nodded and gave him a tense smile, though it felt like he'd just punched me in the stomach with the emotional equivalent of a hammer. "Okay, then…" I took his hand. "Let's count together. One." I pointed at his thumb, "two," his index finger, "three," middle finger, "four," ring finger, "five." Pinkie. I looked up at him and smiled softly. "See? Not a dream."

He stared at his hand for a while, sighed, and nodded. "Not a dream."

"Tell you what," I rolled to my part of the bed and sat down next to him. "Whenever you're not sure if you're dreaming, you come to me, and we count."

"Okay." He nodded and looked down at his hands again, probably counting his fingers.

"How about we count again?" I suggested, taking his hand again. "One…"

~o~

Despite the fact that he barely even slept the rest of the night, Stiles claimed that he was fine and wanted to go to school. I wasn't going to force him to stay at home, but I promised myself to keep a close eye on him.

Turns out Stiles wasn't the only one who was having some… issues after ritually sacrificing himself. Just before school, we ran into Scott. Or rather, he ran into us, whilst he was half-running away and constantly looking at his shadow.

"Hey! Hey." Stiles put his hands on Scott's shoulders. "You alright?"

Scott gasped for breath and frowned as soon as he realised we were right in front of him. He then nodded, which made Stiles and I look at each other skeptically. Stiles turned back to Scott and shook his head. "You don't look alright, Scott."

"I'm okay."

"No you're not. It's happening to you too, you're seeing things, aren't you?"

Scott stared at him with wide eyes. "How'd you know?"

Behind us I could hear Lydia's heels against the pavement, coming closer. How I knew the exact sound of her heels? God help me, I have no clue. "Because it's happening to all three of you." I turned around and saw a very tired Allison standing behind Lydia.

"Hallucinations, too?" I asked, and Allison nodded.

"About… Kate."

I nodded and sighed, trying to calm down. Still, just that name alone made me want to rip Kate's throat out myself. Peter had beaten me to it. "Well, you guys did die and then come back to life. It has consequences." I turned to Lydia. "You keep an eye out for Allison, and if you need anything, just scream."

Lydia nodded. "Sure, in the middle of class." I rolled my eyes.

"You know what I mean. Everyone keep an eye out for each other, okay? And don't just trust anyone new who has a sudden interest in you. The Nemeton doesn't just attract snakes and death birds, okay? Who knows how strong this beacon is."

~o~

During history class, Scott spaced out for a full minute until he shivered, glanced at his nails, and then shook his head for a bit only to continue with our exercises as if nothing had happened.

During maths, Stiles spent about two minutes trying to copy an equation from his book into his notebook. When I tried to ask him if he was okay, the teacher shushed me.

And then there was our lunch break, where both Scott and Stiles experienced the effects of being a human sacrifice.

Stiles was staring at the lock on his locker with a frown on his face. "What…" he whispered, tracing a number with his finger. I shook my head and took the lock from his hands.

"You're having trouble reading, aren't you?" I asked as I opened the lock. Stiles didn't say anything, which was an answer by itself. I shook my head and stepped aside so Stiles could get his books.

Scott leant against the row of lockers, panting. He didn't seem to notice that his eyes were, in fact, glowing. Like two bright red flashlights, right in the middle of the school.

I tapped him on the shoulder. "Scott, your eyes."

He frowned. "What about them?"

"They're glowing!" I hissed, reaching into my bag and pulling out a pair of sunglasses. "Stop the glowing."

Scott shook his head. "I- I can't, I-"

I pushed the sunglasses into his hands. "Here, wear these." Nobody wants to be that weird dude who has perfectly good eyes but still wears sunglasses indoors, but Scott had to deal with that for a minute now.

Behind me, Stiles slammed his locker shut and together we dragged Scott into a classroom, where he pulled off his jacket and ran away from us, breathing heavily.

"Lock the door," I said, taking off my own jacket and following Scott as he headed for the front of the classroom.

Scott turned around. He'd pulled off the sunglasses, but I wasn't entirely sure whether they would've helped, they were glowing that brightly. "Get away from me."

"Scott, we can help, ju-"

"No, I don't know what's going to happen."

I clenched my fist. "Scott, find your anchor, remember?" He seemed to calm down for a millisecond, but then his breath grew even heavier and his fangs started to grow out. I realised he and Allison weren't together anymore, and Isaac was growing closer and closer with her. He was losing Allison, and with it his control. "Okay, fine, no anchors." I lunged forward and grabbed his arm. "Sorry." I twisted and pulled it, making Scott roar in pain. Literally. I am not sure if "But we were watching a wildlife documentary!" would be a good excuse for that one.

Stiles quickly pulled me back in the second of Scott's confusion.

"Pain keeps you human." I explained, watching as Scott's breathing grew more even and his eyes dimmer. "Should heal in… half an hour?"

Scott nodded. "Thanks."

I shook my head and sat down opposite of him, on the floor. "Scott, this isn't just in your head anymore. This is real." I glanced at Stiles as he sat down next to me. He nodded his head.

"I haven't just been having nightmares, Scott." he started. "I've been having these dreams where I literally have to scream myself awake. And sometimes I'm not even sure if I am actually ever waking up."

Scott frowned. "What do you mean?"

Stiles looked down at his hands for a second. "You know how you can tell if you're dreaming? You can't read in dreams. Last few days, I've been having more and more trouble reading. It's like I can't see the words, I can't… put the letters in the right order."

"Like, even now?" Scott asked. Stiles sighed and slowly stood up, looking at the blackboard and around the room, at the posters on the walls. Eventually, he sighed.

"I can't read a thing."

~o~

Scott and I tried to convince Stiles to go home. Emphasis on tried. He simply refused, using various excuses, all equally dumb. So we kept going to our classes. It was in coach's one that things went downhill.

Coach was giving a lecture on the difference between GDP and GNP, most students were looking at him in boredom or out of the window. But Stiles seemed to be making notes. Only he kept going and going, even when coach wasn't talking, but asking questions.

"Stiles," I whispered, leaning towards him. I assumed he didn't hear me, but then I spotted his notebook. The words "wake up" were written in it, over and over, dozens of times. Was he having a blackout? "Stiles." I tried again, firmer now.

Bad idea. Coach noticed. "Stillinski, are you actually paying attention back there?" Of course, Stiles didn't answer. "Stillinski!" Nothing. He just kept writing. Then coach took out his whistle.

My God, how loud could that thing get? My own ears were ringing by the time Stiles' head shot up.

"Stillinski!"

Stiles blinked. "Sorry, what was that coach?"

"I asked you a question."

"Oh… could you… could you repeat the question?"

Coach scoffed. "Yeah, sure, it was: Stillinski, are you actually paying attention back there?"

"Oh." Stiles twirled around his pen in his hands. "Well, I am now…"

Coach shook his head. "Stillinski, don't remind me why I drink." He turned away from the class. "Every damn night…"

Whilst the class started doing their exercises, Scott and I gave Stiles a concerned look. First, he was looking down, but soon he looked to his right, where I was sitting. "I'm okay, I just fell asleep for a sec."

"Dude," Scott, who was sitting on Stiles' left, said. "You weren't asleep." He nodded at Stiles' notebook. Stiles stared down at it for a moment, and slammed it shut.

~o~

The sun was shining, teenagers were sweating, and three of my friends were going insane. A perfect time and place for a lunch break outside. The six of us were sitting at a table, eating in silence.

"So…" Scott started. "What do you call it when a person has a near-death experience and then comes out of it seeing thing?"

"And can't tell what's real and what isn't," Stiles added.

"And is being haunted by dead relatives," Allison finished.

"They're all in an asylum because they're insane." Isaac smirked at us and took a bite of his sandwich.

I rolled my eyes and threw a piece of bread towards him. "Not helping, Isaac."

Isaac caught the piece of bread in his mouth. "Oh, sorry," he said, chewing it. "It's just that I was locked in a freezer for most my childhood, so helping others really isn't-"

Stiles groaned. "Are we still milking that?"

"Yes, we are still milking th-"

"Ehm, sorry," I looked to my left. An Asian girl (maybe from Korea?), around our age was smiling awkwardly at us. "It's just that I heard what you guys were talking about and I think I might actually know… what you're talking about." She shook her head, smiling. "There's a Buddhist word for it, it's called Bardo. It literally means in between-state. The state between life and death."

Lydia eyed her, and for a second it was like she was back to the Lydia from when I got here. She put on a fake, intimidating smile. "And… what do they call you?"

The girl's eyes widened. That question had caught her off guard. Weirdly enough, Scott spoke up. "Kira." I turned my head to him. "She's called Kira. She's in our history class." He gave the girl a small smile.

All kinds of alarm bells were ringing in my head. Sure, this girl might be a normal teenager who just moved to Beacon Hills. Or she might be another psychopathic serial killer who's trying to get to Scott.

Apparently, I was glaring at Kira, because Stiles took my hand and Lydia started talking to distract Kira. "So… are you talking about Tibetan Buddhism or… Indian?"

Kira shrugged. "Either, I guess." she sat down next to Lydia. "But all of that stuff you guys were saying? All of that happens in Bardo," she said, nodding. "There are different progressive states, where you can have hallucinations. Some you can see, some you can just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities." Obviously she found the topic very interesting, but watching her talk about what was happening to my friends with a smile on her face irritated me.

"Wrathful deities?" Isaac asked. "And what… what are those?"

Kira shrugged, smiling. "Like, demons."

"Demons!" Stiles said, nodding. "Why not?"

"Hold on," Allison said with a frown, "If there are different progressive states, then what's the last one?"

Kira shrugged. "Death. You die."

"Really?" I smiled. "Great…"

 **A/N: Aaaaaaand I am two weeks late... My apologies, it's just with school and work and regular 'drama' that comes along with being the hormonal wreck that's a teenager... I couldn't find time or will to write and edit. Sorry!**

 **I hope you still did enjoy this very late chapter and that I will see you in the next one :)**

 **~Lilly**


	3. Chapter two

Chapter two: Into the Dark

Stiles was waiting for me outside after my last classes. I had almost the exact same schedule as Stiles, but there were a few classes that I was… failing. Morell cut me some slack because she knew I'd been busy, but if I didn't get my grades up by the end of the semester, I'd get held back.

So, at the end of each day, I had two extra hours of tutoring, and even though I could use my own car (which I kept in storage), Stiles insisted on driving me home.

Only this time I didn't just find him in the jeep, but also Scott. With a frown, I entered the car. "Hey, something wrong?"

"We're going to Deaton, trying to get some… advice." Stiles said, struggling to find the right words. "I'm pretty sure the nightmare I had during coach's class has some sort of meaning."

"Okay," I nodded and put on my seatbelt. "What was the nightmare?"

Stiles sighed. "Basically: I walked into coach's class, everyone was silent, and there was a girl sitting in my seat. When I asked her if I could sit there, she said something in sign language. So I sat down in an empty seat and it was just… quiet for a while. I was about to leave when I suddenly saw coach, but he said the same thing in sign language. By the time I got up and out of the room, everyone was signing it."

"That's…" I let out a breath. "Creepy. Very creepy."

Stiles drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"You've got any idea what it might mean?" Scott asked, turning his head to face me. I had a hunch, but shook my head anyway. No need of worrying Stiles (or Scott) any more if it wasn't necessary. I'd just wait what Deaton had to say about it.

~o~

"It sounds like your subconsciousness is trying to communicate with you." Deaton said as we entered the clinic, immediately walking further into the operation room.

"Can I tell my subconsciousness to use a language I actually speak?" Stiles asked, holding the door open for me as I followed Deaton.

"Do you remember how the sign language looked?" Deaton asked as soon as Stiles entered the room. "The placement and movements of the hands?"

I looked at him with a frown. "How do you know sign language? Did you have an off-day when people weren't trying to kill each other?"

Deaton ignored my comment and simply shrugged. "I know a little."

"Okay, so… first there was this." Stiles held up one hand, pointer finger up, on top of it the pointer finger of his other hand, which he moved around in a circle before placeing it on his other finger again.

"That's… when." Deaton said with a nod.

"And then this, twice." Stiles placed two flat hands next to each other, and moved one back and forth.

"That's door."

"And then there was this in between it." Stiles made his hand into a fist, his thumb sticking out on top, and placed it under his chin, and pushed out.

Deaton nodded. "That's not."

I frowned. "When door door not?" I looked over at Deaton, who chuckled.

"Almost. When is a door not a door?"

Scott's eyes widened a bit in realisation. "When it's ajar."

Stiles scoffed. "A riddle, that's it? My subconscious wants to tell me a riddle?" He shook his head, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I think there's more to it than that. By sacrificing yourselves, you basically opened a door in your minds. I think… this whole Bardo thing is your subconsciousness trying to close it."

Deaton nodded. "That could very well be. But we can't be sure about that, only that you need to close this door into your minds as soon as possible."

I sighed, leaning my head against Stiles' shoulder. "Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?" Stiles sighed and put his arm around my shoulder as we headed outside. He opened his mouth to say something, but froze when he saw his father, who stood next to his car.

"Dad, what are you doing here?"

The sheriff sighed. "I need your help. Or more specifically…" he turned to Scott. "Your help."

Scott frowned. "Why?"

"Because eight years ago, almost an entire family died in a car crash. One of them, a little girl named Malia, her body was never found. If you could somehow get a lock on her scent… it may just provide the missing clue."

"After all these years?" I shook my head. "Sheriff, I'm not sure if-"

Stiles squeezed my shoulder. "We can try."

The sheriff nodded. "Thank you. But…" he looked at me. "You should go home."

I frowned. "Wh- no? Why?"

"Because I've seen your grades, and this won't be dangerous." I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it when the sheriff sent me a warning glare.

"Fine." I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist. "If there is anything, you call me alright?" I walked to the jeep and took out my backpack, holding it in my hands as I let my wings come out. "Promise you'll be careful."

Stiles smiled. "You said so yourself, if it was a werewolf, it would be long gone by now."

~o~

Stiles and his father got home after only an hour or two. Scott hadn't picked up any scent, which hadn't come as a surprise, but now, the day after, they were planning on going into the father's home and stealing something that belonged to Malia. Once I showed the sheriff I had finished my homework, I was allowed to come too.

So, as the sheriff talked to mister Tate, Scott, Stiles, and I snuck into the house. Through a very creaky door, mind you.

"Okay…" Stiles rubbed his hands together as he looked through what must be an old children's bedroom. "Try this…" he started tossing Scott some things, but each time Scott shook his head.

"All I'm getting is some animal smell," he said.

I frowned at that. "What animal?"

"Dog."

I turned around and saw a huge rottweiler, softly growling at us. With my eyes still fixed on the dog, I felt Stiles pull me back, placing me behind him. "Scott," he said, "anything to calm that dog down?"

"How?"

The dog took a step forward, making Stiles tense. "Glowing eyes, growling, anything? You're the Alpha!"

Scott shook his head. "I can't control it."

"Let me." I stepped out from behind Stiles, making eye contact with the dog. It took a step back, but didn't stop growling.

"Apollo, shut up!" mister Tate yelled from several rooms away.

I crouched down, making sure I was at eye level with the dog. "Apollo, down." I ordered, glaring at the dog. It stopped growling. "Down." I put a little rage into my voice, and the dog whimpered, laying down. I let out a breath of relief and stood up, turning to the boys. "I'm so glad that worked. Would've been so embarrassing." Scott half-laughed, his eyes wide.

"I'm not sure if I'm impressed or scared," he whispered.

I nodded. "Know the feeling. But can you… hurry up? Sniff, do werewolf stuff."

Stiles chuckled. "Lorraine Hield, trained to be a protector since the age of twelve…" I rolled my eyes and slapped him on the shoulder. "Oh, I know you love me-"

"Guys," Scott cut in. "I'm not getting anything. Just that dog."

Stiles' smile fell and he sighed, looking around the room one more time. HIs gaze landed on a picture of two little girls. He frowned and took out his phone, snapping a pic of it before stuffing the phone back in his pocket. "Let's go."

~o~

We met up with the sheriff soon after we left the Tate home. My chest ached a little as I watched the disappointed sheriff drive away after we told him Scott couldn't find any scent.

"Aren't there a lot of cases that go unsolved?" Scott asked Stiles, who sighed.

"Yeah, I just think he felt like this was one he could've figured out right now." I frowned, there was something in Stiles' voice that told me there was more behind this than solving a case.

Scott picked it up too. "Why is it so important now?"

"Well," Stiles sighed, "he wants to be able to solve one more while he's still the sheriff." So that was it. He was getting fired. At least, there was no way he'd willingly give up his position as sheriff, he loves the job.

"What do you mean, 'while he's still sheriff'?" Scott asked. Stiles looked down. "Stiles."

"Your father, he…" Stiles took a breath and looked up at Scott. "He filed a report about mine. It's… not very positive." Scott's jaw tensed at that, as did mine. Though I wasn't planning on confronting Scott's father about it, it sure looked like Scott had different plans.

~o~

Well, I wasn't sure what the fuck exactly I was expecting Scott to do, but it surely wasn't him bursting into Stiles' (and mine, I suppose) bedroom in the middle of the night.

"Jesus fuc- Scott!" I yelled, throwing a pillow at his head. "I'm all in for dramatic entrances, but you could've at least knocked! What if Stiles and I were in the middle of-"

"Lora," Stiles placed his hand on my shoulder. "Calm down." He turned to Scott, whose face was now bright red. "What are you doing here?"

"We're going to find a body." Scott said, holding up a torch and flicking it on. "A dead body."

I groaned and crawled over Stiles to get out of the bed. "Fine. I'm coming with you, though. We all know what happened last time you two snuck out to find a dead body."

"I don't know… if we hadn't been there, Peter would've bitten some other poor kid," Scott said as I started changing into different clothes. "Even though it does come with some advantages, I wouldn't want this to happen to someone else."

I smiled at that. "Look at you, McCall. Spoken like a true alpha. Might as well move out of Beacon Hills then, this town doesn't need me anymore." I gave Stiles a quick wink at that, letting him know I was kidding.

"If I would actually be able to control my shift, that might just be true…" Scott said with a sigh. I zipped up my vest and smiled sympathetically at him.

"You'll be fine, Scott. And besides, we're going out to the woods in the middle of the night to go find a dead body. What could go wrong?"


	4. Chapter three

**Chapter three: Malia**

I crouched down in front of the car. It was lying upside down, totally wrecked in the middle of the woods. Plants were already growing in and around it. On the cardoor were clawmarks, but the individual marks were too far apart to have been from an animal.

"So it was a werewolf then," Stiles said as he crouched down next to me, using the torch to light up the inside of the car. There was nothing in there, must've all been taken out by the sheriff's department. Except for… a tiny hand sticking out from underneath (which was now on top of the bottom of) a chair.

"What's that?" Scott asked, pointing at it. Stiles put the torch's light on it.

"Is that a… doll?" I reached out and pulled at the little plastic hand. Coming with it was, indeed, a doll. One eye was missing, its clothes were brown with filth and the head was in a very unnatural angle, but it was definitely a doll.

" _I'm hungry!"_

Behind me, Scott and Stiles jumped back, Stiles letting out a scream at the sudden voice coming from the doll. I chuckled and smirked at them. "Scared?" My own hard was beating like mad, but they didn't need to know that.

"I think I just had a minor heart attack," Stiles put one hand over his heart as he caught his breath.

Scott's head shot up and his eyes widened. "Lora…" he pointed at a spot between two trees, where two small lights hung in the air. As soon as I spotted it, I could also hear a soft growling. "Please tell me you can see that."

I nodded. "Yeah, I can see it… maybe we should-"

Scott sprinted after the animal. If it even was an animal. I quickly took off my vest and tossed it to Stiles as I flew after Scott and the animal.

"Hey Sco- Lora, wait! Wait!" Stiles yelled as he watched the two of us go. Scott on the ground, me above it. I had trouble keeping up with the pace the animal was running at, but after it jumped over a cliff, it halted. I flew down, landing behind what I now saw was a coyote as Scott landed in front of it, having jumped over the cliff as well.

The coyote growled at us, backing off. Scott crouched down, his eyes glowing red. He looked the coyote in the eyes, which glowed a bright but icy blue. Scott frowned and tilted his head. "Malia?"

The coyote sprinted off.

~o~

The next day, Stiles, Scott, and I met up with Allison just before our history lesson to tell her about what had happened the night before. After Scott and I found Stiles, Scott mentioned he'd picked up the coyote's smell, and we'd found a den.

"Here's where we found it," Stiles pointed at the blue dot on the map he'd saved on his Ipad, "It's in the middle of these hiking trails."

"Well that could narrow it down," Allison traced the paths with her finger, "Coyotes travel in fixed trails. But Lora's right, she wouldn't go back to her den."

Scott frowned. "Why not?"

"Coyotes hate wolves." I said. "They're also not dumb enough to go back to a den when they realise someone's been there." Allison nodded at that.

"They're really smart. If they don't want to be heard, they actually walk on their toes."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Coyotes tiptoe?" Allison nodded, and he let out a breath. "Wow…"

The bell rang and everyone got to their seats, Allison hurrying out of the room to get to her own class. I got to my own seat and sat down with a sigh, putting my books on the table. From the corner of my eye, I could see Kira and Scott having a short conversation, which Kira's father (which so happened to be our history teacher) interrupted. He handed Kira some papers, who gave them to a very baffled Scott, who then sat down with an awed smile on his face as the teacher got back to the front of the class.

"Alright," he spoke, "Let's get back to our topic of internment camps and prisoners of war. There's a passage in our book that I'd like to go over, which explains it in more detail." He walked to the lectern in front of the class and placed the book on it. "Who would like to go first?"

Of course, everyone was silent. The teacher's eyes wandered around the class and eventually landed on Stiles. Before I even had a chance to react… "Mister Stillinski, how about you?"

"Oh, err… maybe… maybe someone else could?"

I put my hand up. "I could-"

"Thank you, miss Hield, but everyone participates in my classes, including mister Stillinski." He gave Stiles a pointed look.

"Okay…" Stiles sighed as he stood up and walked towards the lectern. Placing a hand on either side of it, he bowed his head down and opened his mouth. Though… no words came out, and there was a growing frown of concentration on his face.

When he clenched his fists around the lectern and started breathing heavily, I immediately stood up. "Sir, I should take him to the nurse's office."

The teacher frowned a bit. "Well-" I'm not sure if he ever finished that sentence, I was a bit distracted by Stiles suddenly stumbling and nearly falling over. I leaped forward to catch him and pulled him up.

"I'm just gonna go now," I said as I pulled Stiles along, out of the classroom. As soon as we were out, he ran for the guys' bathroom. Oh don't be like that, of course I followed him in.

"Stiles, Stiles, look at me." I said as I closed the door behind me.

Stiles shook his head as he stared at himself in the mirror, holding on tight to the sink. "This is just a dream, just a dream."

I shook my head. "Stiles, this isn't a dream, okay?" I put my hand over his. "Come on, let go and we'll count." I tried to pry his hands off the sink, but he wouldn't move an inch. "Stiles?" I wasn't even sure if he could hear me. "Okay Stiles, we'll count mine, okay?" I held up my hands, relieved when he looked over. "One…"

Stiles winced as he tried to look at my hands. "Two."

"Three."

Stiles took a deep breath. "Four."

"Five." His breathing was getting slower, but he still wasn't quite there yet. "Six…"

"Seven." Stiles nodded.

"Eight."

"Nine."

I put up my last finger. "Ten." I help up my hands as he kept staring at them, until he sighed and staggered back until he hit the wall, which he slid down against until he was sitting on the floor, panting.

"What the hell's happening to me?" he asked, tears in his eyes.

"I don't know, but I'm working on it. We'll figure it out." I sat down in front of him.

"Will we though? Lora, I'm-" he shook his head, "Scott can't shift, Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt and I'm just… I'm straight up losing my mind, okay?"

Tears started welling up in my eyes. I bit my lip, trying to push them back but… failing miserably. "Allison clearly didn't get closure with her aunt's death. Losing control now that he's an Alpha is one of his biggest fears." I looked at Stiles. "Why this whole dream and reality thing?"

Stiles shook his head. "I don't know."

"Then maybe you are losing your mind…" my stomach twisted as realisation dawned on me. "You said 'don't let them get in.'"

Stiles frowned. "What?"

"When you had a nightmare, you said 'don't let them get in.' I thought it was just a nightmare." I slapped myself in the face. "Stupid! Never ignore dreams, they're the closest to the subconsciousness you can get! You opened a door into your mind, Stiles, your subconsciousness."

All colour drained from Stiles' face. "So if my subconsciousness said 'don't let them get in'..."

I nodded. "Someone was trying to get in through that door." I sniffed and wiped my eyes before standing up. "I- I don't know what to do…" I admitted. "I'm sorry, I just-" I took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can help you."

"You can't always help everyone, Lora." Stiles pushed himself off the floor. "Alright? Sometimes… we can't even help ourselves."

Behind Stiles, the door opened and Scott stepped in. "We can always try."

I frowned at him. "Were you eavesdropping on us?" Scott's eyes widened for a second, realising he'd got caught. "Well, mister sunshine, what's your plan for this one? Politely ask whatever has gotten into Stiles' head to come out?" I snapped, making Scott frown a little, hurt. "Sorry," I said with a sigh. "I just-" I frowned. "Did you also just hear growling?"

Scott's ears perked up at that. He looked around for a bit until he froze. "Malia's in the boys' locker room with Kira."

Stiles and I watched in bewilderment as he sprinted off, before looking at each other. "I think Scott can handle a coyote," I said, taking out my phone. "I'll call your dad before a deputy decides to put Malia down."

~o~

The locker room was a mess. More than usually so, anyway. In an attempt to scare off Malia, Scott had thrown over a row of lockers. Stiles and I made it there just before the sheriff did.

"I think I might know why Malia went after Kira…" Stiles held pulled the creepy doll from the night before out of his bag.

"You took the d- Stiles…"

"I thought Scott might be able to use it!" Stiles defended, "You know, scent!"

"Where did you get that?" A man shoved me aside and grabbed the doll from Stiles. It was mister Tate."This was my daughter's…" He looked at Stiles with fire in his eyes. I was about to speak up when the sheriff stepped between them.

"Mister Tate, I don't know how you've heard about this, if you've got your own police scanner, but you need to leave." When Tate didn't move, the sheriff wanted to push him back… only to discover that Tate had a gun underneath his jacket.

"I've got a permit."

"California schools are a gun-free zone. Permit, or no permit."

"Oops," I whispered to Stiles, who bit his lip to hide his smile. The sheriff had let me off with a warning multiple times for carrying a gun at school. Ever since I came back, I didn't anymore… as far as everyone else was concerned, that is.

"You find that animal," Tate said, his voice laced with hatred, "You find that… that thing." And with that, he walked off. As soon as he was out, Scott, Stiles and I stared at each other. We all knew perfectly well that if we didn't find Malia soon… he would.

And then she would be dead.

 **A/N: I just want to say thank you to the people who are still reading this story, the fact that you've stuck with it all this time... really means a lot to me. More than I'd like to admit. So thank you :)**


	5. Chapter four

**Chapter four: So many injuries, so little time**

It's not easy smuggling a giant tranquilizer gun out of your house when the sheriff lives there as well. I did manage to get downstairs without him noticing… when I walked straight into Stiles.

"Hey yo-woah!" he jumped up in the air, hands up. "That is a… big-"

"Shh!" I looked back to the kitchen, where the sheriff was working. "We need to go."

Stiles nodded and walked back to the kitchen. "Dad? Lora and I are gonna head over to Lydia's, biology project."

"Alright, but be back in time for dinner you two. It's not every night we get to eat together and I'd rather do that without one of you running into a werewolf."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure dad. Bye!"

I walked to the door and opened it. "Bye mister Stillinski!" As soon as the door was closed behind us, I frowned at Stiles. "Doesn't he know Lydia is in the AP class?"

Stiles shrugged. "Nah, I think he doesn't care. He's probably just happy I'm actually putting effort into school for once." He took out his keys and opened the jeep.

"Hey, you help me. That's effort." I protested as I walked over to the trunk to put the gun in. "You know, if this thing works out," I said, closing the trunk. "Your dad is going to be pissed that you lied to him."

For a second, Stiles' face drained of colour as he realised that if our plan would work, we'd actually have to tell the sheriff what had happened. "If it means Malia is safe… that's a risk I'm willing to take." I smiled at him as we both got in the Jeep.

"Look at you, acting all like a protector." Stiles blushed and I let out a laugh, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "I meant that as a compliment. Now let's go shoot a werecoyote."

~o~

Stiles and I met up with Scott and Isaac at the edge of the woods. We'd brought the gun, they'd brought the tranquilisers.

"We've only got two, so whoever is going to handle these needs to be a good shot," Isaac said as he handed me one.

"Allison's a perfect shot," Scott said. Allison was supposed to be there with a second gun, but was running late. Lydia was spying on mister Tate for us.

Isaac sighed. "She used to be. Ever since the Nemeton, she can't keep her hands from shaking." He looked at me. "What about you?"

"I'm…" I hesitated. "A bit rusty, but I'll be fine. If anything goes wrong, I can always try it with my claws."

Stiles shook his head. "Nah- no way. Then you'd have to get close and I want those limbs attached and unharmed." I rolled my eyes a bit as he patted on both my shoulders. Behind us, a car pulled up. "That Allison?" I turned around and saw that it was indeed Allison. I waved and turned back. "Okay, let's go over the plan one more time. Stiles?"

He nodded. "Okay, so… Scott and Isaac track Malia down by scent, Lora keeps an eye out from above and carries one gun, Allison goes over ground with the other. We get to Malia-" he froze and took out his phone. "... before her father does, as Lydia just texted me that he left his house with a gun and coyote traps."

"Okay, but what are we going to do once we get to Malia? We don't even know how to change her back." Isaac said.

"Scott can do it," I looked over at Scott, who was staring at his own feet. "You… did talk to Derek, right?"

"He didn't respond to any of my calls."

"So you…"

"Called the twins."

"The twins?" I scoffed. "The alpha twins? The ones that forced Derek to almost kill Boyd, have been a massive pain in the ass and don't really have a reputation for being reliable?"

Stiles nodded. "That'd be them."

"You knew?"

"Well, I-" he scratched his ear. "Sort of came up with the plan…"

I sighed and shook my head. "Fine. Fine. We can talk about that later. Scott, can you or can you not force Malia to shift?"

"I can."

I forced a smile. "Alright then, let's-"

"I think." Scott added.

My smile fell and I sighed. "Ah fuck it, let's just do this." Allison tossed me one of the two tranquilizers. As I was loading my gun, Isaac cleared his throat.

"So we're still not sure if this'll actually work?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Why are you even here? You're not helping!"

"I'm just-" Isaac cut himself off as he found both me and Allison pointing our guns at him. "I- I mean… we can always try."

Allison smirked. "Nice save."

~o~

I was flying above Scott and Stiles, both on Scott's motorcycle, when suddenly Scott's arm flew to his head right when they were in the middle of a turn, and they were both sent flying through the air.

"What happened?" I yelled as landed right next to Stiles, who was lying on the floor. "You okay?'

Stiles pulled up his helmet's visor. "Mfn"

"What?"

He pulled his helmet off. "I said I'm fine." He took my hand and pulled himself up. "You alright too, Scott?" I turned around and saw Scott looking off into the distance.

"Isaac's hurt."

"How hurt?"

"I don't think he's dying."

I sighed in relief. "Thank god. I already seem to be the florist's personal sponsor, I don't want another grave to visit." I looked down at the motorcycle. "You think you can drive with that?"

Scott shook his head. "The front wheel's punctured. But it doesn't really matter, I've lost Malia's scent."

"I think we don't need her scent." Stiles held up his phone, on it the picture of Malia and her little sister. "The doll, she's constantly after the doll. But it isn't her doll, look." On the picture, her sister was holding the doll. "She's taking the doll back to the car wreck."

"Like taking flowers to a grave," I realised, dropping my gun to the ground. "Stiles, wait here. Scott, you're gonna have to hold on tight."

~o~

"There she is!" I yelled as Scott and I neared the car wreck. I had, of course, flown carrying people before, but Scott was heavy and he wasn't exactly the most still passanger, so I was exhausted.

From the opposite direction, Malia was running towards it as well. A sudden weight was lifted off my shoulders as Scott let go of me and leaped down. I hadn't prepared for that sudden loss of weight, and I lost control of my flight. So whilst I was trying my very best not to fly against a tree, Scott faced Malia and roared.

Now this was an Alpha roar, which threw me off even more. It's hard to focus when your ears are ringing and hurting so much you close your eyes.

What I'm heading for this this is that I plummeted to the ground, alright? It just sounds a bit dumb without explai- you don't care. Back to the storytelling, Lora, back to the storytelling.

By the time I'd recovered from my 'graceful fall', Malia had fully turned back into a human. Only coyotes don't wear clothes, so neither was Malia.

"Malia?" Scott asked as the now very confused girl stared back at him. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position and stared down at her own hands. "It's okay, we won't hurt you."

"McCall!" I called as I ran towards them. "Be a gentleman for once, give the girl your jacket."

Scott's eyes widened. "Right! Right, sorry." He immediately took off his jacket and gave it to me, so I could walk over and help Malia into it.

I smiled as I crouched down next to the girl. "Here, take this. As for legs…" I looked down at my own clothes. I cursed myself for not having thought of bringing a spare set of clothes and then thanked myself for wearing tights with shorts and a tanktop under my shirt. "Scott, turn around alright?"

"Wh- oh" Scott quickly turned around as I started taking off my clothes. I gave Malia my tights and shirt, and kept on my shorts and tanktop. In the end, both of us were a bit cold, but I'd rather have that than Malia going hypothermic. By the time we were done changing, Isaac and Allison had found us, soon followed by Stiles. Together, we waited for the sheriff to arrive. Once he did, Malia was brought home, back to her father. Turns out Isaac stepped into a trap, Stiles bruised his arm, Scott broke his ankle (for thirty minutes), I sprained several muscles and Allison got a few scraped from tripping whilst running. But Malia was fine, as declared by the medics before the sheriff dropped Malia off at home.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" I asked, watching the two hug each other from the sheriff's car. "I mean, she did just suddenly turn back into a human."

Stiles frowned. "She'll have to be, right? I mean, it was this or dying as a coyote."

"I guess…"

Malia turned around one last time, waving at Stiles and me before walking into her house. I smiled and waved back.

"You know…" I sighed as Malia closed the door behind her. "that was my favourite All Time Low shirt."

~o~

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I exclaimed as I walked into the bedroom. It was an absolute mess of toilet rolls, wrapping paper, bolts, screwdrivers, string, and what not.

"It's October 29th."

"Ah, yes, of course. That would explain the…" I frowned as I picked up a formless blob of clay. "whatever this is supposed to be."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's coach's birthday tomorrow, and it's a tradition that we pull pranks on him. Scott and I are meeting up at the school."

I sighed. "Fine. Just be quiet when you get back, alright? And be careful."

"Lora, it's Mischief Night. There's only a million things that could go wrong!"

I scoffed. "Calm down, Stiles. I was talking about school security. It's not like there's a serial killer on the loose."

You know what's worse than saying 'what could go wrong'? Saying 'it's not like there's a serial killer on the loose.' Trust me, I'd know...


End file.
